


all i want to do

by kanicro



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters - TV
Genre: Also this song gives me so many emotions, And the fact that Magnus changes it every week or so is great, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Listen the fact that Alec sees the loft as home is cute af, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7366537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanicro/pseuds/kanicro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 3am air seeps through his clothing and chills the skin warmed by the shower. Winter is creeping up on them, carried in by late mornings and warm coffee and cold feet winding between his legs and cold hands cradling his face and kissing him until he smiles. Lights wind across the headboard, and Alec slips under the thick quilt like a ghost, careful to not disturb the curled body on the other side of the bed.</p><p>Inspired by Talk Me Down, by Troye Sivan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all i want to do

**Author's Note:**

> _and i want to come home to you_   
>  _but home is just a room_   
>  _full of my favourites sounds_   
>  _so come over now_   
>  _and talk me down_

It’s 3am when Alec arrives back at the apartment block. He pauses outside the door to cast a glance at the sky, eyes searching for the stars he knows are beyond the yellow haze of the streetlamps and the bright coldness of the city lights. The light above the door shines merrily, casting a warm haze over the step. He looks back down at his blood-splattered fingers as he digs around in his pocket for his key, his hands shaking and weak from the post-battle adrenaline. Battle is a tried and true dance, but afterwards, adrenaline makes him clumsy, speeding his heart and echoing through his chest with a bone-deep ache, the need to live, live, live, don’t let go just yet, just wait until you get back to-

Alec’s feet carry him through the door into their living room, even though his legs feel like he left them back at the Institute, in the pristine coolness and clinical white of the silent rooms. The flat has changed, the softly blinking lights that web across the dark ceiling gently illuminating plush furniture Alec’s never seen before. It would be foreign if not for the music playing, like a quiet laugh and arms wrapped around him and lips pressed against his forehead as he smiles. His lips curl upwards at the memory as he winds through the furniture to the bathroom, touching nothing, tainting nothing but white porcelain and gleaming metal and glass walls, blood dripping down tiles washed away by water like rain that burns and burns and-

The bedroom has changed, too, redwood replaced by the soft carpet Alec is fond of. Winter is creeping up on them, carried in by late mornings and warm coffee and cold feet winding between his legs and cold hands cradling his face and kissing him until he smiles. The same lights as in the lounge wind across the headboard, and Alec slips under the thick quilt like a ghost, careful to not disturb the curled body on the other side of the bed. The shower was hot, almost scalding in his attempt to wash himself clean, but the bed carries a warm comfort that brushes against his skin and promises happier times. His shivering slows, stops, and his breathing slows, stops, and his heart slows and slows and slows and slows and-

“Breathe, Alexander.”

And Alec does, and his breath catches in his throat like the gasp before tears, but none fall. Magnus is beautiful, and he looks at Alec like all the lights in the world only ever shone to light up his face. Alec is sure that the sun exists to shine out from behind a cloud after rain, because only he has ever brought a smile to Magnus’ face so quickly. Magnus’ hands are warm from the blankets when they cradle his own, and the expression on his face is full of compassion and sorrow and comfort and love that Alec would happily drown in it even as it seems to echo dully in the hollow in his chest.

“It’ll be okay, Alexander.”

Magnus’ lips press against his and he would exist forever just to feel this, and Alec pours everything he doesn’t have the strength and words to say into the kiss, because he’ll never understand how much he loves him but that’s okay, they’re okay, we’re okay, and Magnus pulls back every now and then to say it, and Alec believes him. The kisses slow, stop, and the lights on the headboard shine merrily, and Magnus’ hands are cradling his face and Alec’s hands Magnus’ and he touches their foreheads together gently, softly. The music still plays in the next room as the lights lower, blue sparks dancing in the edges of his vision. Magnus begins humming lowly, softly, his fingers running through the hair at the base of Alec’s head.

“I’ll still be here beside you in the morning. Sweet dreams, my love.”


End file.
